


healing in rhapsody

by fluffy_miracle



Series: #metoo [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cage memories, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode: s13e13 Devil's Bargain, Flashbacks, Healing, Healing journey, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kinda, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Castiel/Dean Winchester, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sabriel - Freeform, Sex, Slow Build Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Trauma, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_miracle/pseuds/fluffy_miracle
Summary: Is there ever actual healing from past hurts, traumas, and agonies? Or is there only forgetting? Most days, the forgetting seems impossible.Gabriel seems to be doing much better while Sam is struggling. Neither of them knows what to call the other, however, they don't need to call for the other to keep coming back.





	1. same old tricks from the same old trickster

Sam woke up the next morning, cold and alone. There was a note on the pillow next to him, a note that simply read ‘Thanks.’ Sam grabbed the note and crumpled it up in his palm. It hurt. It stung. It was ironic that Sam had been so afraid of getting close to an archangel because he thought he’d be suffocated and overpowered. He should have remembered the archangel he had taken to bed. Gabriel was not one to oppress and torture, but he wasn’t one to stick around either. In that moment, Sam wasn’t sure which one hurt more. Something golden caught his eye, something that had been under the note: a single feather. So this archangel was a little sentimental, it didn’t change the fact that he still left. Sam didn’t even know where he was. He got up out of the spacious bed, contemplating on whether or not he should bring these silky sheets back. After he washed them, of course.

Whatever. Sam stripped the bed, wrapping the top sheet around his waist. Wherever he was, it has all the luxuries that he had never known. The shower ran from the top with multiple heads that sprayed water the perfect temperature down his long frame. He groaned appreciatively at the warm water just a tad too sharp and hot. Just how he liked it. 

He started take inventory of his new aches and new markings that he could see. Gabriel (how Sam’s heart felt raw at the thought of the smallest archangel) had not held back when it came to leaving his touch visible on Sam’s body. Sam didn’t mind it. It was proof. Sam couldn’t help it— his mind had failed him before. Gabriel’s hickeys, claw marks, bite marks, and oh yes, Gabriel’s handprint prominently displayed on Sam’s left hip bone were all proof that Sam wasn’t crazy— last night had really happened. Sam would normally scrub himself down after any sexual encounter; this wasn’t his first one since the cage. He just didn’t want to free of the memory of Gabriel’s touch, was loathe to be free of the skin Gabriel had touched. 

Last night had been the best night Sam had in a long time. He turned his thoughts away from the archangel who seemed impossible to not think about and worked on washing his hair. The shower was well-stocked. Sam was definitely bringing the shampoo and conditioner home with him, Dean’s teasing be damned. Sam smiled, knowing Dean would tease him even though he’d be using the same hair products. Dean might not be willing to buy high-end hair care, but he sure appreciated it when Sam wasn’t around. He almost felt like himself by the time he was finished rinsing his hair. His hair was plastered to his neck as he stepped out of the overly large shower. He squinted at himself in the full-length mirror, not knowing what to think of the man he saw there.

He was still tall although he didn’t carry himself at his full height. Sam rolled his shoulders back and let his spine straighten out to its full length. He looked like a different person when he wasn’t curled in on himself, like he didn’t regrets and scars weighing him down. He looked down at his hip, pressing his hand against the reminder that he had let Gabriel in fully, the skin tingling at the touch. Next, he ran his fingers over the colorful blooms that Gabriel had sucked and nibbled into his neck, his pulse fluttering under his fingertips. He wished-- not that it did him any good-- that it was Gabriel here touching him instead of himself. However, he was also grateful for the solitude. He wouldn’t know what to say to the archangel right now, not since Gabriel had abandoned him.

Abandoned. Maybe that was the source of all this grief, maybe Sam had been left one too many times by the people who were supposed to stay. Maybe Gabriel was just the straw that was shattering Sam’s back, just like his parents, Jess, Jo, Ellen, Bobby, Eileen-- the list could go on and on. Sam was tired of losing people he cared about, and honestly, he was just damn tired. 

Sam dressed slowly, following his trail of clothes out of the bedroom, a reverse of the rush to pleasure from the night before. Each piece felt like another part of him being pulled out and discarded. Why was he so easily discarded? And even though Sam knew it was a dangerous thought, he thought it anyway. Even Lucifer wanted nothing to do with him. Sure, he had just been a human to use, a vessel to inhabit. And when he foiled the devil, the devil had made sure he paid the price in blood, sweat, tears, and every agony in heaven or hell. Lucifer had unmade him more times and in more ways. Sam knew how to get his body to respond to mere words. Sam knew how it felt to lose all bodily functions out of sheer fear. Sam knew how to be just so in order to please the fallen archangel-- and yet, he was still nothing to the prick. He didn’t want to be anything to Lucifer. He wanted Lucifer to be dead. He wanted his mind to heal. He wanted to be loved by someone who wouldn’t leave. Yeah, Sam wanted a lot of impossible things-- but only when he let himself.

 

He ended up leaving the sheets, but taking the shampoo and conditioner as he headed for the door. The feather was tucked in the pocket of his jeans. This was a nice place, and judging as the whole place had a distinctive Gabriel feel to it, it was probably one of Gabriel’s safe houses. Sam did feel honored that Gabriel shared it with him. He let himself out, shutting the door behind him, only to come face to face with a sheepish-looking Gabriel who was rocking back from foot to foot.

“Take me home?” Sam asked, not daring to voice the other thoughts that had been inside of his head. He didn’t feel so important to Gabriel anymore. Now he felt cheap and used. It was a feeling he often associated with archangels, but it wasn’t this particular archangel’s fault that he flinched when Gabriel nodded and took him by the elbow. They were back in the bunker in an instant, Sam muttering a thanks before he headed down to the bathroom to put his new stuff. He didn’t look back at Gabriel. He didn’t dare.


	2. misunderstandings upon misunderstandings

“Dean, we need to talk.”

“We’re talking.” Dean said quickly. He tended to avoid Castiel still, even though it had been a few weeks since Castiel had blurted out all these feelings. Dean felt uncomfortable around Castiel now. He didn’t want to talk about those feelings or Castiel’s confession— he just wanted to pretend it had never happened. It seemed easier that way.

“It’s not about that…” Castiel faltered before his resolve hardened. “It’s about our brothers.”

“What about them?” Dean softened for a moment. At least his concern for his brother had not changed. That gave Castiel a little hope that things might go back to normal at some point, some point very far in the future when the hard expression returned to Dean’s face. “Well?”

“Have you not noticed how they act around each other?”

“Not exactly.” Dean rubbed his arm. He was self-conscious. Castiel blinked, not because he had to, but because Dean usually relaxed more around him when he acted more human. “What’s going on?”

“They’re avoiding each other.”

“Like us?” The question slipped off Dean’s tongue before he realized his slip.

“No, that’s just you, Dean. I’ve been giving you space, like you have asked since I met you.” Castiel couldn’t help the bitterness that flooded out. Dean flinched and Castiel didn’t feel so victorious anymore. He didn’t want to hurt Dean; he just wanted to help Dean understand. Castiel had been content with how things were between them, he had never intended on telling Dean his deeper feelings ever. He had known the hunter would react like this. He had hoped to avoid the awkwardness and the avoidance. He had been content to have his hunter be merely his friend. Dean was his best friend. His family.

“Cas--” The bitten off nickname hinted at something Castiel would not, no, could not entertain. 

“I’m going back to heaven for a time.” He announced. “You know how to get a hold of me if you actually want to talk to me ever again. Help our brothers avoid becoming like us by getting them to talk.”

“Goddamn it, Cas.” Dean ran a hand through his hair as he looked at the empty space where Castiel had been. He wasn’t ready to have that talk. He wanted too, but he couldn’t. He could help Sam and Gabriel though. Nothing some holy oil wouldn’t help. If there was one thing Sammy was good for, it was trying to convince Dean of the good in the smallest archangel.

Dean worked through things best when he was working on something else. It was better to keep his hands and mind busy as he concocted a plan to get his brother and Gabriel to talk. Sam was going to be pissed. But there was nothing so bonding as having a common irritant-- if Sam didn’t want to talk to his big brother about why he was currently so pissy, well, he and Gabriel could have it out in a ring of holy oil. Castiel was right. They were different. Gabriel still gravitated towards Sam although he tried to hide it and Sam was trying to hide how responsive he was to Gabriel’s needs. Gabriel wasn’t speaking again; he was lying on his bed again, staring off into nothingness.

“Gabriel, Sam wants to talk to you in the library.” Dean lied casually, heading off before the archangel decided to take a peek into his brain. He figured Gabriel had other things on his mind and he was right as Gabriel slowly made his way down the hallway about fifteen minutes later. Gabriel seemed about as depressed as Sam-- could archangels even be depressed? And why was Sam depressed?

Dean’s plan worked perfectly until the click of the lighter. Gabriel was gone in a blink of an eye, shaking the bunker as he left. 

“What the hell was that?” Sam commented on his way to the kitchen.

“The celestial being that used to be your shadow.” Dean had to smirked since Sam had stepped into the circle of holy oil that was now burning. Sam glanced around and sighed.

“Really, Dean? You didn’t think that he might be traumatized or anything? Holy oil is literally one of the only things that can be used to hurt him.”

“It’s got you talking.” Dean shrugged, lifting his hands in the air. “Cas and I were worried.”

“Well, I, for one, am happy that you two are talking again.” Dean winced, remembering where their last conversation had gotten them. “Dean…” Sam knew him too well. “Cut him slack. Whatever it is, you two have worked through worse. He would and has done everything for you.”

“That’s kind of the problem.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. The best kept secret in the bunker was why Castiel and Dean weren’t talking. Sam had a hunch that even Gabriel knew why— it didn’t matter. He wasn’t thinking about that archangel any longer! He traced the pocket of his jeans, unconsciously seeking out the physical proof that he and Gabriel were connected. “Cas told me he loved me, like love love.”

“Wow.” Sam was stunned. Sure, he had his suspicions, but he was impressed one of the two had actually said something. Leave it to his brother to carry on the proud Winchester tradition of repression and denial. “And let me guess, you didn’t say it back.” Dean reared his head back, offense written on every part of his face.

“I’m not-- I’m not a fucking fag!” He spat out. It was not a word he had learned on his own; it was a word drilled into him by John’s iron will and fists. He still knew it was wrong to say it-- even before Sam’s face changed into something closed off and dark. Sam blinked, ignoring how blood was rushing to his own cheeks. He squared his shoulders and stood up to his full length.

“Well, apparently I am.” He snarled, raising his shirt up just enough so Dean could see the fingers branded into his skin. It hadn’t hurt. It was like they had been branded with the fire of pleasure instead of the fires of torture. What hurt was that his damn bondmate was ignoring him and their bond. “I slept with Gabriel.” Well, that wasn’t the whole truth. Sam steeled himself and revealed the one thing he did not want to talk about right now. “Actually, I bonded with Gabriel.” He said in a tone that would make even demons cower. Dean took a step back, appropriately backing down to the chastisement in his younger brother’s voice.

“Sammy…” Dean was rubbing his arm, the spot where the Mark used to be. Sam noticed the nervous movement. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Dean didn’t want to say how he had meant it. He had meant it towards himself, to punish himself, not Sammy, not Gabriel, and especially not Cas. Fuck. “I didn’t know you and Gabriel were that close.”

But he did. Dean knew love when he saw it. He just had seen so fucking little of it in his life, that Castiel had been a beam of light. Dean had known before Castiel had confessed. He had seen how Sam protected Gabriel and how Gabriel did little things around the bunker for Sam, even when they weren’t talking.

“We’re not.” Sam’s stern face broke into something hurt. “He won’t talk to me. He left me.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Sam laughed all sharp. “I’m not exactly the kind of person that a normal person would settle down with. Why would an archangel want me?” Dean knew where this was going and he cut it off at the root.

“What I do know about angels is that they don’t bond accidentally. They see deeper than we do.” Dean shivered, remembering his own ‘profound bond.’ He missed Castiel. Avoiding him had been difficult but necessary, except now apparently, everyone was gay for an angel and knew he was too. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t gay for an angel. He wasn’t even gay-- one of Sammy’s textbooks had talked about bisexuality. Dean had researched it-- he knew it fit-- he just didn’t want it too. He didn’t want to be what John had always told him not to be.

“Then why is he avoiding me?!” Sam trembled and Dean was reminded that so often Sam kept himself together out of sheer will. Whatever had happened in the cage had forever changed Sam-- Dean was normally not allowed to see just how much. Gabriel was good for Sam, even with how difficult things were for them right now. Maybe one archangel could help make up for what another archangel had done. Sam didn’t let people in easily. Whatever had happened for them to bond, it was not an accident on either beings’ part. They just had shit to work through, just like Dean. 

“Pray to him.” Dean advised, knowing full well to go follow his own advice after this conversation. “Tell him what’s going on in your head and I’ll guarantee he’ll eventually let you know what is in his.”

“Humph.” Sam didn’t like that advice and it showed. His shoulders lowered though and he was actually looking Dean in the eyes now. “Thanks, Dean.” Dean stepped forward and gave Sam a hug, not missing how Sam clung to him, a sigh of relief softly blowing out. He hadn’t realized how damaged Sam was. He hadn’t cared to find out how damaged was. That was going to change though. He would make things right with Cas, help Sam with Gabriel, and get Sam to talk about the cage in hopes that Dean could help. Hell changed a person-- he would know. Hell changed everyone.


	3. the impasse of the ages

“Gabriel.” Sam didn’t know what to say other than his bond mate’s name. He invoked the longing he felt down to the core of his very soul, calling out to his archangel. “Gabriel.” He closed his eyes. “Gabriel.” Things were so new between them. Sam didn’t want them to be over when they had just barely begun. Pushing away his hurts and insecurities, he managed two more words. “Come back.” The ‘to me’ is left unsaid, too raw to be uttered, too needed since Sam woke up alone all those mornings ago. This had gone unspoken for a few weeks, too long for either of them and still not long enough. Even though he was not entirely ready for the conversation, Sam could acknowledge the talk needed to happen now before they drifted any farther apart…

Gabriel was lost at sea. Technically, he wasn’t, he could snap himself out of there at any time, but the sea was the safest place for him right now. Holy oil couldn’t burn him if he was surrounded by water. He should have known Dean would come for him: Dean always came to protect Sammy from the monsters. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Gabriel tapped his forehead against the soaked wood of the mast. Being free was harder than he thought it would be. He just wanted to curl in on himself, but he couldn’t lie still. The smell of holy oil was all the information he needed to run, keep running until he could run no more. It sucked that he wanted to run back to the place he was the most safe-- he wanted to run to Sam and his strong arms. But Gabriel had fucked that up. He had bonded with Sam.

Okay, so it wasn’t a mistake. Gabriel had bonded instinctively-- wanting more of the safety and affection Sam had given him since freeing him from Asmodeus. Sam had understood where he was at. Sam had been a mirror, showing him how shattered a person could be and still live a meaningful life. Sam had given him hope. Gabriel had wanted all of Sam to himself. And that was where the problem lay. Sure, Sam had said the words back, had finished the bond, but Gabriel was convinced he had forced Sam into the bond. And if he had forced Sam into a bond, he was no better than his monster of a brother who had forced Sam to do all those other things.

When he had woken up that morning, it had felt so good to wake up to Sam. Then he had seen and felt their bond. He had felt sick, sicker than he had ever felt in Asmodeus’ dungeons. He had left to see what he might do to make it better, left a note and a feather so Sam wouldn’t think he abandoned him. He had gone back, and Sam had been awake. Sam had known. Sam had known what terrible thing Gabriel had done to him. Gabriel had wanted it so badly to be happy thing for them, but how could it be? They didn’t even know each other. For all their history, they were still strangers. That much had been evident when Sam had seen him outside of the door. He couldn’t even look Gabriel in the eyes. Gabriel could recollect just how his face had fallen when he had realized Gabriel was there. Not even the fact that Sam had taken the shampoo Gabriel had gotten just for him could cheer the archangel up. Sam had asked Gabriel to take him home and had then avoided him ever since until today. Now Sam was praying for him, and it wasn’t a weak prayer, it was the kind of prayer that tore at Gabriel’s grace every moment that he stayed away.

Should he go? On one hand, Sam would be there. And even if he was the one to take Gabriel’s archangel blade and drive it into his chest, Gabriel thought he could take it. He’d die for Sam. He’d die to give Sam peace. He’d drive the blade in his own chest, end up just like his tormenter, his second maker, flat on his back with a blade in his ticklish parts. The blade was in his hand and Gabriel had to blink through the tears to think if he was seriously contemplating this. There would be no second chances for him, but Sam would be okay. “Gabriel, come home.” Those words hurt, no, they fucking hurt, they throbbed with every agonizing second Gabriel didn’t answer Sam’s call. 

They were too broken for this. Gabriel was too broken for this. He didn’t know how to make this right except to free Sam from a loveless bond with a monster with a familiar face. If it was only a partial bond, he could break it. He’d break it by putting himself down. It would only work though if the full bond they invoked didn’t take. Shit. Fuck. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The blade jabbed into Gabriel’s arm and he cried out as grace and blood leaked out freely. 

If the bond didn’t take…

The only way Gabriel’s death wouldn’t kill Sam too would be if the bond didn’t take. Gabriel sighed, a human sigh he had picked up from his tall human, exhaling air he didn’t need. His blade snapped from view. He would have to answer Sam’s prayer after all. He’d check to make sure they weren’t fully bonded and then he’d take his last flight, off into the empty nothingness he found himself longing more with each passing moment.

“What?” Gabriel didn’t want Sam to see just how shattered he was, settling for surly instead. As expected, Sam jerked back and pain lanced through their bond. Gabriel frowned. That wasn’t a good sign. He dropped the mask: it didn’t matter if Sam saw him hurting, Sam had seen him in worse. “I’m sorry.” His voice wavered and Sam’s eyes zeroed back in him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Gabriel dropped off to a whisper now. He had felt so good, lost in pleasure with Sam, his Sam, all his Sam. Sam frowned for a second. Gabriel saw the concern glimmering in his eyes and that felt all sorts of good before the nausea of what he had done came twisting back. He felt like he was back on the boat, being tossed around by waves.

“Gabriel, what’s wrong?” Fucking Sam Winchester, only he would realize just how bad off Gabriel was and toss his own shit aside for a moment even though Gabriel had tell he had been crying. His pretty eyes were red and puffy-- he had been crying while praying to Gabriel. Gabriel was here now. He practically jumped in his haste to get to his mate, reaching, grabbing, wrapping Sam in such a big hug that Sam almost started crying anew because dammit, this was all he had wanted when he had woken up.

Oh. Gabriel nuzzled into Sam’s neck, pressing closer as he picked up on the missing pieces in their bond, soaking in the shining happiness of Sam’s soul, shining so brightly that it put the sun to shame.

“I’m sorry.” Gabriel didn’t mind the tears this time-- he felt like they were washing him clean of the filth he had carried all these years. Time was of earth, but he had endured so much of it. Tiredness weighed heavy on him, but it shouldn’t have weighed so heavy that he would leave Sam to face it alone. Gabriel saw it now, that they were fully bonded, and that Sam had not been upset about the bond. Sam had responded instinctually and said yes. “I wanted to be there when you woke up.” He hesitated. “I- I was scared.” Gabriel closed his eyes in relief. He wasn't dead. He hadn't killed himself and Sam along with him. Sam wanted him. Sam had accepted and welcomed the bond between them. Gabriel had been alone for so long. His tears were of happiness as he squeezed Sam even tighter.

“I was scared when you weren’t there.” Sam admitted back, closing his eyes as he inhaled in Gabriel’s scent. He was holding the archangel up at this point. Gabriel had indeed jumped, but he was more than happy to have his arms full with his mate. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me!” Gabriel laughed outright in relief. He leaned back to look solemnly into Sam’s eyes. Sam put him down and he wasted no time on pushing Sam’s shirt up to reveal his own fingers. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want it.” Sam’s cheeks were pink and Gabriel realized this was a hard confession for Sam to make. Sam had been hurt so much. He had been left so many times. Gabriel tugged his pants down just a couple inches, making sure they were still up. Sam gasped, but Gabriel wasn’t done yet with him yet. He slotted his hand against his handprint and poured all he felt towards Sam through their bond. Sam was quiet and that was okay. With time, their bond would be strong enough to not have to touch to do this. Gabriel felt happy about the idea of the future. He couldn’t stand on his own yet, he still needed Sam. Sam still needed him. Someday, they would be okay on their own, but they still wouldn’t have to be. Gabriel wasn’t going anywhere ever again.

Words were not enough. Gabriel had to show it with his actions, and he started by letting he and Sam be made one again. Skin on skin, mouth on mouth, hands on hands-- their bond was consecrated anew.


	4. naked heart to hearts

This time when Sam woke up the next morning, Gabriel was still there. He was fidgeting, but he was there.

“Hi.” Sam raised his head from Gabriel’s chest, apparently he was more of a cuddler than he realized. The archangel didn’t seem bothered that he had been promoted to pillow, in fact, he looked far more content than Sam had ever seen him be. Gabriel looked over at him and smiled, moving up for a kiss. He turned so Sam could see his hip, looking as proud as a peacock. Sam took in his lover’s body, running his hand over the milky white skin, blemish and scar free. He ran his hand over Gabriel’s side and his hip, stopping at his thigh as he stared at his handprint seared into Gabriel’s left hip. They matched. He glanced up at Gabriel worriedly who shot him an assuring smile, leaning back, rocking the hip closer to Sam’s face. 

“Yours.” Gabriel said softly. It was a loaded word for the both of them, but if Gabriel was happy, Sam was happy. It just seemed all so soon.

“Mine.” Sam hesitantly brought up his hand to run it through Gabriel’s hair. It was growing out, softer now thanks to Sam’s fancy shampoo. Gabriel pressed his cheek into Sam’s hand, nuzzling into his touch. “How?” Sam had to ask. “Why?” He supposed that was the real question. “Why me?” He didn’t have to tell Gabriel how that question scraped at his still raw soul. His soul wasn’t scarred: it was still wounded, gaping, raw. 

Gabriel saw all of that. He saw past the constant soldiering on. He let Sam be strong and steady, as well as, injured and desperately trying to heal.

“Kiddo.” The endearment slipped out and Gabriel’s eyes widened before Sam’s did. Sam saw the sliver of gold, the reminder that Gabriel was so much more than he appeared.

“I mean, you are older than me.” He tilted his head, laying his head into the crook of his elbow. Gabriel wriggled closer, his chilled skin warming as he curled closer to Sam.

“Angels were supposed to love humans, but to not get personally attached.” Gabriel’s voice was smoother now. Sam rembered the rasp of disuse, remembered the silent and hidden scars his lover, his mate-- that word flashed through him and threatened the break him in half-- Gabriel was healing too. Gabriel was bleeding too. Gabriel had been so silent for so long, but here, with Sam, he was daring to speak again. Sam knew how hard it was to find his voice after having lost it for so long; he could empathize, but he couldn’t imagine how the very messenger of God felt being unable to speak for all those years. The thought gave his soul such an ache, an ache that threatened to swallow him whole. He wanted to keep Gabriel safe. 

Sam’s hand slipped down, sliding across the knobs of Gabriel’s spine that still were too pronounced under his smooth, freckled skin. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Sam whispered. Gabriel flinched, blinking rapidly. Sam sucked in a breath, whispering apologies. He hadn’t know that was a trigger. He hadn’t know that had been a part of hell-- Lucifer had never been one for praise or making Sam feel good. All he ever did was take, take, and take.

“Sorry.” Gabriel tried to apologize. “That Asmo-fucking-dick--” He cut himself off as the tears refused to be held back. He curled up a little more, snuggling a little closer into Sam. “I can’t stop crying.” He sniffled. “It used to bother me, but I got used to it. My tears were all I had left. They were the only way I could express myself. He could laugh all he wanted--” Sam’s arm came around him again and Gabriel lifted his chin to rest on Sam’s warm skin. “You’re so warm.” His fingers were splayed across Sam’s rippling abdomen. “Never thought all this was under all that flannel.” There was a hint of a smirk, that old smirk that Sam had thought died all those nights ago in the Elysian Fields Hotel.

Sam remembered Gabriel from back then. How paradoxical he had been-- all tricks, shits, and giggles, to wrathful, hurt, and bitter. Gabriel had been wounded for a long time, wounded from what had happened to his family, wounded by how he had to survive it. He remembered the smirks, the snapping of fingers, the cleverness. He remembered the flirting. He remembered the confidence and the ability to get whatever Gabriel wanted. 

“It’s all yours.” Sam wrapped a blanket around them. “I’m all yours.” He said in a hushed voice. “I’d die to keep you safe.” His voice was wracked with conviction.

“You are not allowed to die for me, Samuel Winchester.” Gabriel invoked his archangel status with that statement. “If you die, I die. If I die--” he faltered, “I’ll try not to die.”

“Gabriel, I’m human.” Sam’s brain clicked. 

“I made my choice.” Gabriel murmured.

“Why?!”

“Angels fall hard.” Gabriel said wryly. “I loved your soul as soon as I met you.”

“But I’m dirty!”

“We all are, Sam! If you think you are dirty, I am downright reactive.” Gabriel set his jaw. “That was before the demon was through with me.” Sam could see the sorrow on Gabriel’s face. “I want to tell you, Sam.” Gabriel’s voice cracked. “I need to tell you what he did to me, but I’m not ready.”

“It’s okay.” Sam was rubbing Gabriel’s back, trying to comfort Gabriel. “I get it.”

“Lucifer?” Sam shivered.

“Yea. I haven’t been able to really tell anyone what happened down there, not even Dean.” Sam cracked a smile, knowing Gabriel would get that. When Gabriel just gave him a sad look, Sam had to remember that this Gabriel wasn’t the one he had known before. 

“You don’t think you’re worthy of love.” Gabriel said slowly as if he was reading Sam. He probably was. “But you’re the best human I’ve ever met. You try so hard.” Sam scoffed and Gabriel frowned. “Sam, before I met you two, I hadn’t tried to be decent in thousands of years. Do you know what pagan gods do to humans? And then you two--” Gabriel blinked. “When I remembered who you were, I wanted to know why you were taking such good care of me! Why you hadn’t turned me out or sent me back to hell-- we both know I deserve--”

“You deserved nothing that happened to you in hell!” Sam snarled, startling the archangel nestled in his arms. Tears welled back up in his golden-brown eyes. This time, Sam let him cry on his chest, whispering truths that Gabriel needed to hear. Gabriel was good. Gabriel helped save the world. Gabriel had saved them. Gabriel was brave. Gabriel didn’t have to be okay right now. Gabriel would be okay someday. Gabriel wasn’t alone. Gabriel had Sam for the rest of whatever existence was after death for an archangel and a human who dared to fall in love and mate for life.


	5. wrongs being made right

Gabriel wasn’t completely healed, but he was better. Sam was still torn and frayed at the edges, but he was better too. Gabriel wasn’t running and Sam wasn’t working on projects. They were actually living. Dean could see the peacefulness on both of their faces, even though their relationship was more celibate now, they were still completely there for each other. They didn’t need to have sex to convey that. They had their bond. Maybe someday they would feel like having sex again, and if they did, they would have each other. Gabriel knew he wouldn’t want it with anyone else and Sam felt the same way about him. They just needed a break from the actual act, too many memories and ghosts and flashbacks. Naked snuggles were more than acceptable, maybe even some rub on rub action. There was just the boundary that neither of them wanted to be penetrated. And both of them was more than okay with keeping that boundary.

“I wish Dean and Cas could work through things.” Sam admitted to Gabriel late one night as they lay in their bed. Gabriel’s head was resting on Sam’s chest-- the archangel was loathe to admit how much he loved the sound of Sam’s heartbeat. It was a sign that Sam was okay, that he was here, that he was alive. Sam’s heartbeat let Gabriel know just how content the hunter was with him: his calm and steady pulse a testament to how much Sam trusted him, no matter how hard those words were to say. Gabriel trusted Sam too.

“I-I think I know how to help them.”

“You do?” Sam’s hand came up to play with strands of Gabriel’s hair, smoothing it out of his face. “Of course you do.”

“I made Castiel reveal his feelings to Dean so Dean would leave you alone and stop making you upset,” Gabriel blurted. It was one of his longest sentences by far: Sam just wished it hadn’t been for a confession. 

“I’ll talk to Dean in the morning.” Sam rubbed Gabriel’s back. “Thank you for telling me. I know that couldn’t have been easy.” Gabriel shook his head, having used up all his words for the night. Sam’s arm around him was a steady reminder that he was still loved. Even though he had messed up, Sam still wanted him and loved him. Gabriel needed that. Those reassurances had been hard to come by in heaven and in hell. He drifted off to sleep a few minutes later, still healing, still recharging his grace, comforted and safe by the fact his mate was near.

“Dean.” Sam jogged over to where his brother was working on the Impala.

“I don’t know how the hell you manage to run this early.” Dean gave him his usual once over look of disbelief that Sam actually liked running.

“We run from monsters all hours, Dean. We chase after them too.” Sam wiped his forehead with his arm. “It’s good to stay in shape, especially since we’re getting older.”

“Psh. I’m good just the way I am.” Dean replied, bending back over to go under Baby’s hood.

“Hey, I needed to talk to you.”

“Shoot.” Dean’s voice came back muffled. “I can hear ya under here.”

“It’s about Cas.” Sam started carefully. When Dean didn’t respond, he continued with trepidation. “Gabriel forced him into revealing his feelings. He was trying to protect me so he used Castiel against you.”

“Fucker.”

“Dean…”

“So what you’re telling me,” Dean slowly came back up, “is that things can go back to normal because Cas doesn’t actually l-love me?” Sam didn’t call attention to how Dean looked crestfallen at the thought, nor how he had stuttered over that one word in particular.

“That’s not it.” Sam said gently. “Gabriel only made him reveal what was already inside. He didn’t force Cas to feel anything he wasn’t already feeling.”

“So I’ve still really fucked up.” Dean offered Sam a grin. “With no way to fix it.”

“I don’t know, maybe you can trying praying.” Sam smiled back even though he could see through the mask Dean was trying to hide behind. “It worked for me. And like you said, angels are different than us, they see deeper. They fall harder than we do.”

“I know.” Dean turned back to the car. “Thanks, Sam.”

“I hope it all works out.” And Sam meant that. He wanted Dean to be as happy as he was with Gabriel. He wanted Dean to allow love to be a light and happy thing instead of a heavy burden that had to be hidden. 

Dean waited until nightfall, hiding in his man cave. He ran over everything he might say to Castiel, but he kept coming back to one thing: the truth. Now all he had to do was to actually tell it.

“Cas.” It wasn’t much of a prayer and Dean knew it. Castiel wasn’t answering his calls; Castiel wasn’t answering his prayers, so Dean just stuck everything he was feeling and didn’t know how to say in the one-syllable, shortened version of Castiel’s name.

“Dean.” There was snark there, yes, but Dean could hear the way Castiel was guarding himself. Castiel had put himself out there and Dean had utterly rejected him.

“I’ve been going over what I was going to say if you showed up.”

“Of course I would show up, Dean.”

“Cas--” Dean faltered. 

“Yes?” Castiel asked cautiously, putting his guard down ever so slightly.

“Cas, I love you too.” Dean blurted out. “I know Gabriel forced you to tell me and I know I fucked everything up afterwards, but I’m glad it happened because it made me face the truth. I love you and I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“Dean.” Castiel was a little breathless, but he had no problem closing the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Dean, just holding him as Dean let it all out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a wild adventure, a rollercoaster of emotion, and everything else in between. Thanks for coming along and for all the support and love you've shown me and this series. 
> 
> This story ended up being theuraputic for me and played a part in my finally getting counseling to deal with the past and present in hopes for the future. It's been terrifying but worth it. For all you who know #metoo all too well, as I tried to show with this story, is that there is hope and healing for all of us. So much love to you all!
> 
> -fluffy


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